


Playing at Knights

by orphan_account



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Chansaw, F/F, Heather having a soul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-07 22:56:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6828529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Heather Chandler was little, she liked to imagine that she was a knight from one of her father’s bedtime stories, riding horses and rescuing maidens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing at Knights

**Author's Note:**

> This is mainly just me practicing writing longer scenes, but I really wanted to write a longer Chansaw piece. I like the idea of Heather Chandler not being a complete bitch all the time and actually caring about people, even if she's shit at showing it.
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr](https://rose-by-the-sea.tumblr.com/)

When Heather Chandler was little, she liked to imagine that she was a knight from one of her father’s bedtime stories, riding horses and rescuing maidens. Her parents never thought twice about her wild daydreams. After all, she was only a child of five, there was plenty of time for her to grow up and develop more reasonable aspirations. Yet as she grew older, the fantasies of adventuring and kissing girls only ever grew stronger.

She was allowed to start horseback riding lessons when she was seven and given her first horse a year later. It became easier after that, to imagine she truly was a hero of some long since passed age, as she rode out of sight from the house and towards what she learned to call freedom. At the beginning, of course, she didn’t understand that’s what she was doing. To Heather, there was nothing wrong with wanting to be a knight and wanting to marry a lady. But over time, Heather started to learn that wasn’t the way things were. Girls were not knights. More importantly, girls did not marry ladies. It did not matter how brave or strong or how much she wanted to, Heather would never find a lady to marry.

Even so, Heather did not want to give up her dream entirely. Even if it wasn’t possible to find her very own damsel in distress, Heather didn’t want to be some boy’s prize, either. She was determined to develop her own form of knighthood if the traditional path was blocked to her.

Still, it was incredibly different to convince herself that she had any form of nobility while a college sophomore stuck his tongue down her throat and tried to force her out of her shirt. He was greedy and demanding, not even a man of decency, let alone chivalry. Heather wanted his hands off her and to run downstairs, grab the other Heathers and Veronica, and leave. But she had a reputation to keep and running out on him without a reasonable excuse would have a whole host of consequences she didn’t want to deal with.

“C’mon, baby.” His breath smelled like alcohol and something sour and foul. It made Heather cringe, though he wouldn’t notice. “Let’s get you out of that dress.”

Heather rolled her eyes as he started to pull at her neckline. “You’re going to rip it,” she hissed.

“I’ll buy you a new one.” It was a lie. An unconvincing one at that and Heather hated him even more for that. Fortunately, he had enough sense to try to find her zipper, rather than tear her clothing.

One of her hands was inching up her thigh and she forced herself to sit still, wondering if the sensation would be so horrible if his hand was a bit softer or smaller. His thumb was hooked around her underwear and Heather was preparing herself for what inevitably came after. His breath was hot and horrible, and Heather closed her eyes and went slack.

A high-pitched scream from the room next to them caused her to jolt upright. “I’m sure it’s nothing,” the boy whose name Heather couldn’t remember insisted, but she didn’t let go of the tension. “Just ignore it.”

Heather shrugged him off without thinking, only stopping to glare when he protested. “It wasn’t nothing,” Heather growled. “Go find another fuck for tonight.”

It was Heather McNamara’s voice, she was sure of it. Half of her was cursing McNamara’s inability to take care of herself and the other half was thankful for an excuse to leave the fraternity ass hanging with his dick out.

Out in the hallway, Heather McNamara was cowering against the banister as two large, drunken boys closed in on her. They seemed to be entirely unaware of the fact that McNamara’s eyes were brimming with tears and all Heather wanted to do was hold her close and wipe them away, but that wouldn’t be acceptable. Heather Chandler was steel and weakness was not something she was willing to share. Not in public.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Heather?” she snapped. It was easy to channel her anger towards the world into her voice, however misplaced it was towards McNamara. “Heather and Veronica are waiting for us downstairs.”

“I,” Heather McNamara hesitated, eyes darting to and from Chandler and the two jocks, “I’m sorry?”

“Who are you?” one of the looming figures asked in a drunken haze. Heather wondered if his breath smelled just as bad as the boy who’d just been on top of her.

“Does it fucking matter?” Heather had no more interest in talking to the boys and grabbed McNamara by the wrist and pulled her downstairs to find the others. One of the boys shouted after them, but Heather could hardly care. Behind her, she could hear small hiccups coming from McNamara, which only made her tighten her grip. University students were still milling around her, along with the occasional high schooler, completely oblivious of the two girls pushing through the crowd.

Heather heard a full sob come from McNamara and spun around to face her. “We have to find Heather and Veronica, okay? Keep it together until we’re out of here.”

“Yeah,” Heather McNamara whispered, using her free hand to wipe her eyes clear. “Okay.”

Heather nodded curtly and resumed the search for Heather and Veronica, praying that neither had been as foolish as her to go off with some stranger. She shivered thinking of calloused hands possessively running over her hands.

She saw a flash of blue in out of the corner of her eye. Veronica and Heather Duke were downing shots in the corner with a few strangers, neither looking overly thrilled to be there. Chandler was thankful that their extraction from the party wouldn’t be too difficult, then, though she was bitter over having to drive each of them home instead of having Duke do it.

Veronica was in the middle of taking another shot when Heather ripped her arm down and pulled her close enough to be heard over the blaring music. “We’re leaving.”

“Why?” Veronica asked. Heather answered her with only a jerk of the head towards McNamara, which seemed to have been enough for Veronica. Heather Duke, drunker than the rest, whined weakly, but didn’t put up much of a fight.

The fresh air outside made Heather’s head spin with relief. She wanted to go home, saddle her horse, and ride out to the meadows behind her house. She wanted to forget the fact that her life consisted of drunken boys, empty threats, and the fact she could no longer remember how to make one of her best friends stop crying. The only thing she could do was keep holding Heather’s hand and drive her home.

“Give me the keys, Veronica.” Heather said, trying to ignore the taste of self hatred which had been left in her mouth from the stranger, probably trying to find another girl to finish him off.

“I can drive,” Veronica said, but Heather shrugged her off.

“No, you can’t.” It came out as more of a bark than she intended. “You took God knows how many shots in there and I don’t want you crashing me into a fucking tree.”

Veronica, for once, didn’t have a sarcastic comment to add and helped escort Heather Duke and Heather McNamara into the back before taking the front seat for herself. A “thank you” threatened to leave Heather’s lips, but she couldn’t bring herself to say it. Instead, she pulled out of the parking lot and tried to keep herself from speeding towards Heather McNamara’s house.

She had less to drink at the party than the others, but she was still unsure if it was the beer or the anger that was blurring the streetlights together. Heather wanted to scream.

“Shit,” Heather whispered.

Veronica, who’d been leaning her head against the windowsill, turned to face her. “What?”

If Heather wasn’t so angry with how the night had gone — although if she was being entirely honest with herself, it had gone exactly as predicted — she would have found it adorable. “This is your car.”

“Yeah?” Then realization dawned on her. “Oh. I mean, I can drive home from your house?”

“No you fucking can’t,” Heather snapped. Heather McNamara whimpered in the back and Chandler forced her tone into something kinder. “Just, look, I don’t want you to crash into a tree and die on your way home.”

“Mkay,” Veronica drawled. “I guess I can get it tomorrow.”

Heather sighed and tried to force her attention on the road. The drive to Heather’s and Heather’s houses was relatively short, Heather Duke getting out first in a drunken stumble and nearly falling over her front steps. Heather McNamara wasn’t falling over herself when she left the car, but it was hard to keep her from breaking down.

“Thank you, Heather,” she said between sobs, “For getting me out of there.”

“It’s fine, just get some sleep.”

When they pulled away from the McNamara residence, Veronica was starting to sober up. She was still leaning on the side window, but her head was cocked towards Heather with a small smile. “That was really nice of you, Heather.”

“Shut up.” There was no anger in her voice, though. She was tired, sore, and just wanted to brush her teeth and crawl into bed. But Veronica was staring at her with clever eyes in a way that made Heather uncomfortable.

“I really don’t get you,” Veronica said after a moment. “You act like you don’t care, but—”

“I said shut up,” Heather whispered, but her voice was cracking from exhaustion.

The bravery provided from the shots seemed to have not worn off as Veronica kept talking, ignoring Heather’s orders. “I mean, you were going off with that hot guy earlier, right? You guys weren’t really gone that long so you left him to help Heather, right?”

Heather glared at her, but didn’t have the energy to keep it up for long. “So what?” she sighed. “Heather was crying and I helped. I’m not fucking heartless.”

She didn’t want to tell Veronica about the way she’d let a boy throw her onto a mattress and shove his tongue her throat. That was never the sort of person Heather wanted to be and she didn’t want to admit to Veronica of all people that it was who she’d become. A far cry from her childhood fantasies.

“Heather?” Veronica’s tone seemed worried. “Shit, Heather, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Heather hissed. They were only five minutes away from Veronica’s house and she refused to break down in front of her, in Veronica’s own car. “I’m fine.”

“Pull over,” Veronica demanded, but Heather refused to acknowledge her. “Goddammit, Heather, pull over!”

Heather slammed on the brakes and jerked her head towards Veronica, eyes brimming with unspilt tears. “What? What’s your damage?”

“Why are you crying?” Veronica’s voice was so loud and so scared. Heather wanted to stop it. It was her baggage to deal with, not Veronica’s. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“Nothing happened, Ronica. I’m just so fucking tired.” Even she was surprised by how smoothly her voice came out, despite the emotion behind it. “So can you drop it?”

Veronica’s eyebrows knitted in frustration and confusion. “No! You’re crying, Heather!”

Heather reached up and felt the wet droplets falling down her cheeks. “Fuck,” she whispered angrily. “Fuck.”

Veronica didn’t say anything when Heather started the car up again and kept driving, nor did she comment at the way Heather’s lip trembled. It was only when Heather parked that Veronica reached over and squeezed Veronica’s shoulder. “Come in for a while.”

“Your parents are sleeping,” Heather said as if that was a reasonable excuse.

“Then we’ll go out back.” Veronica nudged her teasingly with a weak smile. “We can play a game of croquet.”

Heather was angry with herself for wanting to accept the offer. “It’s late and you need to sleep.”

“I’m not going to sleep if I spend all night worrying about you,” Veronica explained. “You can even spend the night and I’ll drive you home in the morning.”

“I’m not spending the night.”

“C’mon, Heather,” Veronica sighed. “Just for a bit.”

“If I do will you go to bed?”

Veronica rolled here eyes, but agreed. “Fine.”

Heather allowed herself to get dragged into Veronica’s backyard by the slowly sobering Veronica, impatient to go home, yet not wanting to be alone. Veronica sat unceremoniously under a tree and stared up at Heather with the same studious eyes as before. Heather groaned and took the spot next to her, at least finding some enjoyment in the cool breeze. It felt so much cleaner than the stuffy party.

“What are you tired of?” Veronica asked.

Heather laughed bitterly at the question. “You know, when I was little, I used to believe in things like nobility and honor. Stupid, huh?”

“I don’t think so,” Veronica said. “I mean, who doesn’t want a prince charming to come whisk them off their feet?”

“Prince charming,” Heather repeated. “I guess.”

Veronica leaned her head on Heather’s shoulder in a rare moment of comfort, immediately causing Heather to tense awkwardly. When Heather didn’t complain, Veronica laughed. “Okay, what’s wrong? You’re not yelling at me.”

“Shut up.”

“I think you’ve said that already,” Veronica yawned. Heather’s heart fluttered a little faster as Veronica shifted her head into a more comfortable position, closer to Heather’s chest. “You’re a lot less scary in private.”

“So I’m told.” Without thinking, Heather brushed aside a stray lock of Veronica’s hair. “I should go.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” Veronica protested. “Please don’t go.”

Heather wasn’t sure how it had happened or why she’d failed to stop it, but Veronica was leaning towards her and kissing her. She was soft and beautiful and Heather wanted little more than to sink into the kiss, but Veronica wasn’t sober and she wouldn’t be the sort of person to take advantage of the situation. Too many boys had pushed themselves on her when she’d had one drink too many.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Veronica babbled when Heather pulled away. “Shit, Heather, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Heather whispered breathlessly. “But I really need to go.”

“Please don’t,” Veronica begged, but Heather refused.

Heather pulled back from Veronica completely and stood up. “Call me in the morning, okay?”

Veronica still looked hurt, but Heather refused to give into her desire. In the car — Veronica’s car — Heather trailed her finger over her lips. “Shit,” she whispered.

**Author's Note:**

> And wala! Leave thoughts if you have any!


End file.
